The Severed LegMature

For this exercise, I was asked to create a flash-fiction story that started with the sentence, "When I found the leg, I knew it was going to be a bad day." and ends with "Finally, we were free.". I was inspired by the book "John Dies at the End" by David Wong.

When I found the leg, I knew it was going to be a bad day. It took me a minute to realize what I had been cuddling with in my sleep, and once I did, I made my way to my bathroom to heave the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Coming to my senses, I tried to remember what had happened last night.

Why do I have a severed leg? I thought. I have to call Jeff. Maybe he knows what happened last night.

I made my way to my phone, hoping that my best friend Jeff was awake to take my call when I noticed the red flashing light. I had a message. I pressed the play button.

“Max! Maximus,” Jeff’s voice slurred its way drunkenly through the phone speaker, “Listen, we got the son-uma-bish. Whatever you do, do not lose the legs! I got everything else, just keep them safe, buddy. I had an awesome time tonight by the way….night. Oh, wait! Meet me at MacLarren’s in the morning. At, I dunno, nine I guess. Bring the legs!” Beep.

I stared at the machine unsure of what I just heard. Nothing made sense right now. And Jeff had told him to keep the legs safe. Plural. As in more than one. The clock on the far wall read 8:30am, giving me a half-hour to get to MacLarren’s to meet Jeff and figure out what was going on.

Grabbing a trash bag from the kitchen, I headed to the bedroom to bag the severed leg that just minutes ago I had been sharing intimate space with. It was a pale color that no living thing could ever achieve, topped by a very sloppy wound where it had been removed from its owner. As I reached down to grab it, it kicked me. It’s still alive!

I was sick and tired of this day, and I had only just woken up. My head was throbbing from a hangover from a night of drinking that I couldn’t even remember. I just had to get rid of the leg as soon as possible so that my life could return to at least a little bit of normalcy. A few minutes passed before I managed to get the wriggling leg into the trash bag.

Mission a-fucking-ccomplished, I thought to myself as I stormed into the kitchen. I grabbed my keys from the counter and opened the door to the driveway. The second the door opened, a mighty foot, armed with a penny loafer, swung down and kicked me square in the nose. The other damned leg, I suddenly recalled. I hopped on its own in the cocky way that severed legs never do, until I wrestled it to the ground and put it in the trash bag. I put them in the trunk and drove to MacLarren’s, nursing my bloody nose.

I pulled up next to Jeff, who stood in front of MacLarren’s pub, which was closed this early in the morning. He wore a mile-long smile on his face. The bastard.

“Max! You got my message!” He exclaimed, “Do you have the legs?”

I replied, “Of course I have the legs, they are in the trunk. What the hell happened last night? Why do I even have these legs? Oh, and want to explain why they are moving?”

“You don’t remember? Such a lightweight. We totally went vampire hunting last night, you know, for fun, cause we were trashed, and we actually found one! I didn’t even know they existed! I have the rest of him in the car, I just gave you the legs so he couldn’t run away.”

I rubbed my temples in irritation. “We gotta get rid of him.”

“Why do you think I brought us here? I got the fire pit that the bar burns its trash in going. Come on!” He dragged a large cardboard box from out of his pickup truck’s bed and hurried it off to the back of the bar, a muffled shouting emanating from inside of the box.

The fire was roaring and hot, the flames causing my forehead to break out in a sweat even from afar. Together, we tossed our prisoner into the burning pit. A scream broke out that drowned the sound of the fire out completely. It went on for minutes before finally dying off.

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Author guidance

Overall, I wanted to create a very bizarre situation for my protagonist. I did this by, of course, making the situation itself seem very strange, as well as putting him in the state of mind of a hungover person. My main inspiration was the book "John Dies at the End" by David Wong.

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